Chapter 23 Remorse

Aslam speaks:

On the plane to Durban, I wondered how on earth  I ended up this way. The cops were on my tail for blikseming Layha and almost killing her. I had to make a plan to marry Fatima as soon as possible so she could be my alibi. The day we confronted Fatima’s parents I went looking for Fatima after she called. After some searching, I finally found her. I could not restrain myself any longer and had to fuck her. I was attracted to Fatima since the first day I met her. I just could not get her out of my mind. In spite of wearing a scarf, I could see she was sexy underneath all that covering. She had all the curves in the right places. She was not fat nor thin. She was perfect. The day I saw her at that club I knew she had to be mine.  We went to the nearest hotel room and I managed to score some cocaine. The drug induced euphoria turned Fatima into an erotic porn star. Who knew this farm girl had it in her! Soon she was naked and I had ravished her virginity. She had so much confidence, I thought she was a professional. Only after she called me the next day crying about losing her virginity did I realize that she totally lost her mind after the cocaine. I needed to sort out this police situation as soon as possible and getting married to Fatima was my last hope for staying out of jail.

Layha planned some or other function. I doubt she was in the mood for people in the state she was in, all battered and bruised. So I decided not to let all her hard work go to waste, and arranged my wedding reception with Fatima on that evening instead. I asked my PA Trisha to sort everything out.

In the early evening, I went to masjid and we had the nikah after maghrib. I stopped at a bar to have some whiskey just to calm me down a bit before I braved myself for the wedding reception. As soon as I entered I couldn’t take my eyes of Fatima. She looked dazzling. I made the announcement and the hall went silent. The aunties were glaring at me from all angles of their eyes. After the reception we went to the hotel room and had a wild party. Fatima’s behavior was very erratic. One minute she was on top of the world laughing having fun, the next minute she had angry outbursts. She looked restless and was very talkative. She had hallucinations and was hearing and seeing things. It was getting to the point of paranoia. I could not deal with all the drama so I just ignored her and went about my business with the babes I hired for the evening. The morning after the wedding night it felt awkward to have someone else other than my wife in bed with me.

The drug binges with Fatima over the past few weeks amounted to R200 000. The money has just disappeared into thin air. The highs are short lived and the money is gone. Poof! Up in smoke or snorted up our noses. Luckily the “foreigner” decided to give me a hefty cut if I allowed him to use my car sales business to clean his drug money. This would give me all the drugs I ever needed. This way I didn’t have to work another day in my life. I went to speak to Layha. She’s become a holy cow. All she talks about is Allah this and Allah that. I can’t deal with all that now. I have some business to take care of, specifically cop shop.

After checking the bank account, I realized that I had been overspending and wasting lots of my cash that Layha and I had worked hard to earn. I decided to get a flat in Rosebank for Fatima. She whined but I quickly put her in her place. After I showed her the place, I saw her flirting with her old boyfriend. What does that lightie have that I don’t have? I decided to teach her a lesson and showed her how a real man is and fucked her, there and then. “It will teach the whore to flirt with guys right in front of my eyes,” I thought. I dropped her off at the police station and hoped she did not mess up. She was in a state, shaking as she left the car.

Layha continued nagging me to change my ways. I needed to finalise things with the “foreigner”. So I decided to go on a honeymoon to Durban and kill two birds with one stone. Fatima had been extremely edgy lately. She looked horrendous. She was like a walking skeleton. Her skin was getting darker. Her eyes were always blood shot red. I was getting angry because she did not even make an effort to talk to “the foreigner.” She was short with him and only gave him one-word answers. It was like she wanted to sabotage this deal. Layha had the gift of the gab. She knew how to close deals and treat the clients. I started missing Layha. I suddenly had deep remorse for hitting her and leaving her to die. I still love Layha. She was my first true love. Layha is a good wife. She never drank alcohol, ate anything haram or even smoked a cigarette let alone a joint or take any drugs, and we are married for years. Although she dressed very modern she still had some modesty. I once bought her this sexy bikini. She only wore it for me. Fatima on the other is a wild party animal. I love that she is so carefree. Sex with her is out of this world. Maybe it is that way because we are both so high most of the time. She was young and vivacious. She would do anything I tell her to do for a quick fix.

As soon as we reached the hotel room Fatima was begging me for some cocaine. The addiction was making her irrational and restless. I needed her to be dependent on me, and the only way I could do this was by feeding her cravings for drugs. This guaranteed that she would never leave me. Now, with helping launder “foreigners” money through my business I had a free supply of drugs and I could give Fatima every drug she desired. It was the only way to have her hooked and I could control her.

Fatima put on her bikini to go to the beach. I wanted to have her there and then! But I needed to do some business in an hour’s time. She begged me to take her to the beach for a dip. We bumped into some aunty of Fatima who would not stop talking and I made a quick escape.

I could not get Layha out of my mind and decided to call her.

“Assalamwalaykum Aslam,” answered Layha.

“I love you Layha and I am terribly sorry about everything. I miss you terribly. I can’t lose you. We have been through so much together. I will do anything to make us work.” I begged Layha.

“Aslam I love you too but hitting me is never a solution. Despite all that has happened I have forgiven you. I started reading my salaah. I have started getting to closer to Allah by reading the Quran. I also started therapy. I have never felt so happy and alive in my entire life. If you want us to work, you have to give up your haram ways. Stop this nonsense with this “foreigner” person. Also, you will need to help Fatima get out of that pathetic state she is in. I make sincere dua you find Allah like I did,” answered Layha.

“My darling. I can’t bear life without you. You can’t leave me. I won’t allow it. How will you live without the nice house, fast car, the jewellery and all the things I bought you?” I said, trying to persuade her.

“Aslam, Allah is enough for me. I don’t need money and I have learnt about my Islamic rights as a wife. Money does not make the world go round. If you think that all I want is money, then I don’t think we are on the same page. I will only reconsider anything if you change your ways.” Layha put the phone down.

I was so furious! I wanted to punch something. This preaching from Layha was getting annoying. All I knew was that Layha needed me, and there was no way in hell I would let her go. I considered calling her mother. She would always set her straight.

The foreigner took me to all the clubs I would need to supply and collect cash. The club owners excitedly asked about the “foreigners” wife Dahlia. I was intrigued and couldn’t wait to meet her.

Fatima was looking hot that evening. We left for the club to meet “the Foreigner”. When I first saw Dahlia, her beauty was breathtaking. Just looking at her excited me. After dinner Dahlia came closer to me. She started touching me, flirting with me and whispering in my ears, “I want to fuck you, why don’t we swop partners.” I wanted to have her right there on the table. From the corner of my eye I could see that the “foreigner” touching Fatima. I was overcome with rage. How dare she flirt with a white man? Am I not good enough for her? Instinctively I attacked the “foreigner”. Clearly not a bright idea because his bodyguards almost knocked me out. Fatima went to the ladies room. I was furious and followed her into the bathroom. I showed her who was boss. This will teach her not to be a slut and let any other man touch her!

After I had my way with Fatima in the bathroom, I went back to the “foreigner” and apologized for my behaviour. I hoped that this did not spoil our deal.

Fatima went on a binge of drugs and drinks. She was wired. Her pupils were dilated. She was extremely moody. One minute she was happy and the next moment she was aggressive. When her verbal diarrhea started I knew it was time to call it a night. In the car she was nauseous and asked me to stop because she wanted to throw up. As we drove off she started shaking uncontrollably and started sweating profusely. One minute she was crying and the next minute she was giggling. The words that came out of her mouth made me look like a saint, or the parts thereof that I could hear because most of the time it was slurred. I could not take it anymore and gave her a slap across her face to shut her up. She needed to learn who is boss and respect me. At this point I couldn’t help comparing Layha and Fatima. How did I get to this point with a wild slut that was out of control?